In an uncharacteristic turn of bad luck (brought on, I'm sure, because I neglected to eat the traditional birthday corn dog on Tuesday), I managed to escape the White Elephant/Dirty Santa gift exchange without carrying home the most hideous item in the room.
It was such a singularly unattractive item that I very nearly caged it for myself; I thought it might make for good blog fodder, but I didn't want to get stuck with the monstrosity, either. My mother is still trying to unload a bull testicle vase she got stuck with at last year's Methodist Women's Circle gift exchange. I haven't seen it; I'm relying on her description to know that I wouldn't want one for myself. This does pose some interesting questions about the Methodist Women's Circle, though.
So I went for an innocuous red package instead, which turned out to contain an equally innocuous ceramic bird. It was of a rounded design, a sort of fat and happy kind of bird. As I opened it, the woman who brought it announced, "That used to be in my bedroom, but my husband says it reminds him of a woman's breast."
And you know, I was perfectly happy with my gift before she said that. Now, every time I see this bird, I'm going to think of this woman's breasts. I don't know why this should be so; she didn't say that the bird reminded her husband of her breast, only that it reminded him of a generic breast. It would be really cool and synergistic if the bird had reminded him of my breast, but since we've never met I'm sure that's not what he meant. Probably.
So I now own a ceramic item that reminds me of another woman's breasts, which--by the way--I have never seen. I'm not even sure that I can form a mental picture of this woman's breasts; I don't think I ever noticed before that she had them. Now, I am not only hyper-aware of her breasts, I also know that they resemble rounded, fat and happy birds.
And if I do get a chance next year to palm the damn thing off in another gift exchange, you know I'm not going to be able to stop myself from announcing, "That used to sit by my computer, but it reminded me of [my coworker's name]'s breasts."
photo, B. Tovey.
I came here via F. John's link. I will most definitely be back. Love your writing.
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